by Nancy Thayer
Felicity slid off the counter and stepped away from Noah. He was blazingly handsome now with his cheeks flushed and his eyes brilliant. And she was glad that David was helping Noah. But…
“So I guess you won’t want me to cut connections with my mother and the wedding and David’s family.”
“Oh, Felicity, don’t do this,” Noah begged. “Come on, don’t be such a downer. We should celebrate! I think we’ve got some champagne—have the kids eaten? Let’s get a sitter and go out to eat. This is one of the most important moments in my life!”
“I’m glad for you. So now you’re coming to the wedding, right? Or will you be busy with Ingrid?”
“Felicity. I’m going to reassign Ingrid.”
“What?”
“After David left, I had a talk with Ingrid. I told her we weren’t…” Noah dropped his eyes as he struggled to find the words. “What I mean is, I won’t be seeing her again, not even in a professional capacity. I’m moving her to HR.”
Felicity stared at Noah, her husband, the father of her children, this maniac. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I know!” Noah cried. “I know! Everything’s new now, isn’t it! It’s a new world, a new day, a new product, a new you and me!” Noah frantically went through the cupboards and refrigerator. “Champagne, we should have some champagne. White wine. No, that’s not the same at all. But the kids should be part of this. Let’s take the kids to Ben & Jerry’s and we’ll all have huge sundaes with marshmallow and cherries!”
“Noah, are you all right? This isn’t only about David investing with you, is it?”
Noah laughed. “Yes! No! I don’t know. I can’t separate it out, and why should I try, Felicity? Everything’s different now!”
Felicity scrutinized her husband. Yes, he was crazy happy, but she’d seen him this way before, when the first and most important experiment they did with seaweed worked out they way they’d expected. She wanted to help him celebrate, this husband whom she had loved and still loved. But he was a man she didn’t entirely trust. And maybe she never would again. Her heart felt like a helium balloon wanting to lift off into the sky, but with a lead weight inside, a small block of heaviness holding it down. At their wedding, she’d vowed for better and for worse, and here they both were in front of her at the same time. Noah’s ebullience, his wild idealistic hope, and, true, his masculine handsomeness, shone before her like the sun. And he said he was going to transfer Ingrid to another department. Maybe he really was done with Ingrid.
But she could not forget the conversation when he’d said he wanted Felicity to cut connections with her family. With David. Ha. The irony. His relationship with Ingrid, whatever it was, and this bizarre swing from criticizing David to joyfully accepting his money, those matters were not so easily absorbed. She understood how significant David’s money would be to Green Food, but she could not understand Noah’s complete moral turnaround. Who was this man she was married to? What did he really want, other than to succeed at his work? How could he tell Felicity that only Ingrid could understand him, and then get rid of Ingrid, simply bat her away as if she were a flea?
And yet, was Felicity being a killjoy? Why couldn’t she, why shouldn’t she, help her husband rejoice in this miracle of David’s generosity? She didn’t hate Noah.
But she no longer loved him in the same way. It was not only Ingrid. It was not only his lack of any moral code.
It was that Felicity had changed. For so long, too long, she’d considered herself lacking in importance, in talent, especially when compared with her brilliant lawyer sister. Especially when her husband found another woman necessary to his life. It wasn’t Felicity whom Noah had chosen. It was David and his money. She had undervalued her own worth, and it was only when she interviewed for the job with the preschool that she realized what she could do, what she could offer, had enormous value.
And maybe, with meaningful work, she could continue to stay married to Noah. For a while, at least, for the sake of the children.
Or maybe she would leave Noah. The thought shot through her like a beacon of light, illuminating possibilities she’d never seen before.
“Okay,” she said, standing up. “Let’s take the kids out for some ice cream.”
In two steps, Noah was across the room, folding Felicity in his arms. “And after they’ve gone to bed, you and I can have our own private celebration.”
* * *
—
Jane woke in a strange room. It took her a moment to realize she was in Wales. Scott was alive, and he wanted to have children with her! She was light-headed with jet lag and happiness. Hurriedly, she showered and dressed and checked out of the hotel and took a cab to the hospital. She laughed out loud when she realized she didn’t have to pass through the emergency entrance but could stroll through the main door. The sun was shining, but if it had been raining, Jane would still have thought: What a beautiful day!
She found Scott in his room, his arm in a sling, dressed and ready to go. She hugged him enthusiastically but carefully, not wanting to press any bruises.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Lucky,” Scott said.
A white-coated doctor came into the room, a handsome man with a startling amount of curly gray hair.
“We’ve set your bones and enclosed them safely in your big white cast,” the doctor said in his thick Welsh accent. “You’re good to go, but you’ll experience some soreness from your arm and other bruises. Take paracetamol or aspirin. You should check in with your physician when you get home. You’ll need the cast for at least six weeks. I wouldn’t advise any mountain climbing for a few months.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Scott said.
They wanted to thank the doctor by name, but even though the name was on a tag, it was so very Welsh it was unpronounceable. Jane had found the Welsh for “Thank you” on her phone, and she and Scott both said, “Diolch. Diolch for everything.” The way the nurse grinned told her she didn’t have the correct pronunciation.
They took a cab to Scott’s hotel in Portmeirion because his rental car was parked at the base of the Watkin Path. The A487 meandered past sunny coastlines and through shady forests. Jane held Scott’s good hand as they rode along, looking out the windows at the lush mountainous landscape. Finally the driver turned onto a long private road and suddenly they were driving under an elaborate arch, entering the dreamlike seaside village created by the eccentric architect Sir Clough Williams-Ellis. They’d discovered this place online together when they researched hotels near Mount Snowdon. They’d agreed it would be fun to spend their days climbing a mountain and their nights in such a charming resort. But Jane had seen only pictures on a screen. The real thing was strange and wonderful.
“Wow!” Jane pressed her face against the window like a child at a candy shop. “How beautiful!”
The cab dropped them at the bottom of a hill, in front of the hotel.
“Do you like it here?” Jane asked as she helped Scott from the cab.
“I do. Very much, and I’ll admit I’m surprised. It’s outrageous, such a mixture of architectural styles, yet it’s beautiful. Magical.”
“It’s magical that you’re alive and safe,” Jane told him.
Scott’s suite was on the first floor of the hotel, the Peacock Suite.
“I remember reading about it on the website,” Jane said. “King Edward the Eighth stayed here in 1934, right?” She set her suitcase down in the bedroom and walked around, taking in the views. “Would you like to lie down? Rest?”
“I’ve spent too much time lying down. Let’s walk around the grounds. They’re spectacular.”
She had never seen any place quite like this resort. It was a mixture of architectural styles and lush gardens. Here, a Greek temple with columns, there a great gold Buddha, statues and steps and everywhere an arch or a porthole show
ing a glimpse of yet another strange and beckoning landscape. There was a long, turquoise reflecting pool surrounded by pots of red geraniums, and farther down, a swimming pool not far from the estuary. They strolled along the paths, stopping in the temple, the grotto, the stone boat set in the estuary. The woodlands were as extravagantly ornate as the village with towering rhododendron, monkey puzzle trees, palm trees next to evergreens. They passed through the ghost garden and sat for a while at the overlook, watching the shining water of the Irish Sea slowly flow into the estuary.
Later, they showered and changed and had dinner at the elegant restaurant, overlooking the water. The late summer sky blazed with stars. They drank champagne and ate pheasant and fish, lingering over their desserts of fresh berries in cream.
“I’d like to return here someday,” Jane said.
“So would I. Right now I’m ready to go home and collapse.”
“Are you sore?”
“Sure, some. Mostly I’m just tired, really tired. Huddling on a mountainside seems to have used up my energy.” He reached for her hand. “But I’d like to come back here, too.”
“And maybe, if we find an easier trail, we can try Mount Snowdon again,” Jane said, smiling.
“Or maybe we’ll be so busy raising children, we won’t get back here for years,” Scott replied.
Jane squeezed Scott’s hand. “You mean that, don’t you? You’ve truly had a change of heart.”
“Yes. Although I reserve the right to grumble and complain about sleepless nights and smelly diapers.”
Jane quickly took a sip of wine to hide her smile. Wales was magical. Scott had gone from no children to more than one in a space of twenty-four hours.
The next day they reentered reality. They took a cab to the car park at the base of the Watkin trail, picked up Scott’s rental car, and drove the long, winding road back to the Manchester airport. Jane did all the driving, of course, and for a while she was nervous about driving on the left side, but by the time they reached the highway to Manchester, she was comfortable. Scott slept beside her, his head against the window. They found business-class space on a flight to New York. They settled in, ate and slept and watched movies, and at last the huge plane landed at Kennedy airport. Their luggage arrived safely. They were sixth in line for a cab. Finally they were being driven from Kennedy to their apartment on the right side of the road.
twenty-six
Alison stood in the middle of her kitchen with a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, and all she was doing with the pen was tapping it against her lip. All summer she’d prided herself on being the kind of mother/mother-in-law/fiancée who could, at a moment’s notice, provide a delicious meal for fifteen when only ten had said they’d absolutely be there. This meal she had intended to be especially nice, because David’s assistant, Heather, and her surgeon husband, Cecil, were coming and also because it would be the first time that Scott with his broken arm was on the island after his exciting adventure in Wales. Felicity and Noah and the children were out playing volleyball on the beach, one happy family. Ethan was here, and so were Poppy and Patrick and their children, so that made fifteen people.
To complicate matters, the weather had turned cool, windy, and cloudy. This often happened, Alison knew, but she wished it hadn’t happened this weekend. David’s beach house, and the beach itself, were at its best on the sunny hot days when they could all gather on the deck and watch the sun sparkle on the ocean. Today the ocean reflected the gloomy gray of the sky. It wasn’t quite cold enough in the house to ask David to build a fire in the living room, but it was cool and dismal enough that Alison was changing her menu on the spur of the moment, from cold pasta dishes to hot.
She had enough striped bass for all the adults. Daphne and Hunter could have hot dogs. Or if they preferred, they could have sandwiches and chips and take trays into the den to watch television while they ate. Poppy’s children were easy about food, they’d eat anything. She’d intended making a cold salad of brown rice with cooked broccoli florets and corn and chopped red peppers tossed in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, but now she decided to serve the rice and vegetables separately, and hot, so the children could pick and choose.
She sighed. Then she laughed at herself for sighing. Oh, what a difficult time she was having, what a terrible burden, to have to change her dinner plans! Here they were, two days before the wedding, and all she had to worry about was how to feed her family and friends! It had been a worry this summer, sensing that Jane and Scott were at odds, and knowing that Felicity’s marriage was rocky, too. And Poppy had been such a brat, and Ethan had tried to seduce Jane, although maybe Alison should give him a break and believe that Ethan had fallen for Jane. He had acted that way. Alison had often wanted to warn Jane or reprimand Ethan, but they were adults. They wouldn’t have listened to her.
But finally here they all were at the end of the summer, and Jane and Scott were, to hear Jane tell it, madly in love again after Scott’s accident in Wales. And David had been so incredibly generous, investing in Green Food, which had seemed to transform Noah from an anxious, frowning, bad-tempered bag of nerves into the charming family man Alison had known him to be when Felicity first married him.
Life was never simple and not all days were happy, but over the years, Alison had come to believe, a normal life had its ups and downs, its sadnesses and its joys. And marriage certainly had its seasons. Often, you had to make the sunshine yourself. Today she determined not to allow one neuron in her brain to worry or fret. Today she would be grateful for all she had!
And now, her daughters were going to try on their bridesmaids dresses!
* * *
—
Jane and Felicity entered their mother’s large walk-in closet and ran their hands over her row of dresses as they headed for their own gowns hanging in the back.
“Wow. Mom has some nice clothes,” Felicity said. “Nicer than she had when she was married to Dad.”
“Mom was too busy to care about clothes when she was married to Dad,” Jane answered. “She was usually in jeans and a turtleneck.”
“Here’s yours,” Felicity said, lifting a heavy plastic garment bag from the wooden rod. “And mine.”
They unzipped the garment bags, stripped down to their undies, and stepped into the gowns. The satin rustled as they pulled the gowns on.
“Zip me and I’ll zip you,” Jane said.
When they were finished, they checked themselves out in the three-way mirror. The pale pink complemented Felicity’s porcelain complexion, and the deep rose accentuated the drama of Jane’s dark hair and eyes.
“You look like a princess,” Jane told her sister.
“So do you,” Felicity replied. “No, wait. No more princess. Let’s go with queen.”
“Mom’s queen.”
“Okay, duchess then. Or countess.”
Jane stepped next to Felicity. She put her hand on her sister’s waist. “Look at us. We both look so—splendid. Even after this crazy summer. And now I’ve got Scott safely home and Noah’s dissed Ingrid and you’ve got a job you can’t wait to start. Our lives are wonderful.”
Felicity walked away from Jane. She sat on the end of the bed, smoothing the satin of her skirt. “Yes, we are fortunate. I understand that. But, Jane—I’m not sure I want to stay married to Noah.”
“Oh, Filly.” Jane sat on the bed next to her sister, searching Felicity’s face. “Tell me why.”
“Because I don’t think we love each other anymore. I might even, well, hate is too strong a word, but I feel a kind of contempt for him. I told you what he did, how he said I had to break all my connections with my family. Then David said he was going to invest money in Green Food, and in an instant”—Felicity flashed her hands through the air—“Noah adores David and all of us. That is so…slimy.”
“What does he think about your job at Small Steps?�
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“Ha. He asked why I want to waste my time on something any half-wit can do. That’s what he said. Half-wit. At first, I tried to argue with him, I emailed him articles about the importance of early childhood care, I quoted statistics to him, but really, I knew I wasn’t going to change his mind. Because he’s a narcissist, really.” Felicity allowed herself a sad smile. “I researched that term, too. A narcissist has an exaggerated idea of how important they are. And they lack empathy for others. But it’s more than that, Jane. It’s me. A switch has been flicked in my heart. I don’t love him anymore.” Felicity took Jane’s hands in hers. “I don’t know what to do!”
“Okay,” Jane said calmly. “Okay, first thing, don’t cry. No crying now. We’ve got to go downstairs for dinner. Second, take a breath. You’ve had a lot to deal with this summer and you’re starting a new job, and your schedule will throw everything into a new time frame, and your first duty is to your children, right?”
Felicity nodded.
Jane continued, “And take it day by day for a while. Give yourself time to get adjusted to your work. Let your thoughts settle. Remember how close I was to leaving Scott. I mean, life is long, marriage is for the long haul. We go through so many changes in our lives. But divorce is huge. For you and for your children.” Jane grinned and shrugged. “Listen to me, you’d think I know what I’m talking about.”
“No, Jane, really, everything you say helps me a lot. I wish you lived closer. I wish I could talk to you every day.”
“Well, silly Filly, we don’t have to live in the same state to do that. We’ve got our phones, and we can text. Hey, if I get pregnant, if I actually manage to have a child, you know I’ll be calling you constantly.” Jane stood up. “Now come on, let’s take off these gorgeous gowns and go down to the kitchen before Mom ends up doing all the work herself.”
* * *
—
The house absolutely bulged. Daphne and Hunter and Alice and Luke had spent the afternoon on the beach, and now they were all showering and putting on clean clothes. Pipes clanked, water ran, footsteps thumped back and forth on the second floor, mothers called out to their children, and occasionally a father would bellow a loud, low order, like a bassoon. It was a family symphony.